This past Sunday night, I was called into action as an emergency replacement to be the announcer of the Writer’s Guild Awards ceremony in New York. This sounds glamorous. It was not. (Standing in the cramped, cable-strewn shadows for several hours straight, even in one’s most comfortable cubic zirconiums and chunkiest heels, is not often listed amongst the dreams of high school seniors.)
I had a great time doing it, though, and even with that pinched-nerve feeling in my legs, it was fun. And part of the fun was pretending that wearing lipstick mattered.
It was an odd situation for me to be in. For some inexplicable reason, my website’s email address had received seven requests for autographed photos in a single week, all from Eastern Europe. I don’t get seven requests in a month... and lately, not even in a year. (This is not a complaint.)
With each new email, a line from Singles played over and over in my head, as spoken by Cliff, the lead singer of Citizen Dick, after reading a lousy review of his band: Just remember one thing... we are loved in Belgium, and in Italy! I was underemployed in America, but somehow, I’d suddenly taken the Czech Republic and Ukraine by storm.
In the dead, gray pall of winter, in the midst of resolutions and reinventions, and after the crazy holiday crush is over, this is a prime time for college alumni organizations all over the country to have various networking events, in the name of jumpstarting temporarily stalled careers. Just for fun, let’s read between the lines of one of these notices and call them what they are, shall we?